


Steve and Tony Take A Road Trip

by mjstark



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Best Friends, Bisexuality, Cute, Feel-good, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Road Trips, Tony Being Tony, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, cute shit man, just dudes being bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 20:31:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13302636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjstark/pseuds/mjstark
Summary: Steve and Tony embark on a reckless road trip designed to escape their lives and pursue happiness like they've never felt before.And if they find love along the way, then that's just a bonus, isn't it?





	Steve and Tony Take A Road Trip

When Steve gets fired, and evicted, and dumped, all in one day, he goes to sleep on the sidewalk. 

Not his finest moment. Or his best decision, if his back pain is anything to go by, but something he felt he needed to do. Thinking about it, he was just being dramatic. He had plenty of places to go for help and actually some money (that he _had_ been saving for his now-ex partner). 

So, here we have another prime example of **S** teve **R** ogers being a **D** ramatic **S** on **O** f **A** **B** itch, as Tony would say. Things weren’t… awful, exactly. He had just lost a 2-month relationship, his home, his job. All that jazz. Pfft.

It was nothing.

As much as Steve loved to do things by himself and never ask for help, he absolutely stank. He needed a damn shower.

 

But also, going to someone's house would be embarrassing and he’d have to talk.

 

But he was hungry.

 

But then they’d want to know what happened.

 

But he needed clean clothes.

 

But this was so embarrassing.

 

“Ugh.” Unable to reach a conclusion, Steve lay back down on the pavement. 

That is, until a familiar car pulled up in front of him. The driver looked over at him with the most unimpressed face Steve had ever seen, one eyebrow raised as he leaned casually out the window.

“Get in, Steve”

“No,” Steve replied stubbornly, refusing to lift his face from the tarmac. Tony sighed and held up a brown bag and a coffee cup. 

 

Steve scrambled to his feet.

“How did you know?” 

“Genius, remember?” At the look Steve shot him, Tony smiled a little. “Sharon texted me. She was worried.”

“She has a weird way of showing it,” Steve sulked, shoving his breakfast muffin into his mouth.  He knew he was being dramatic. He also knew Tony would let him. 

They drove for several minutes until Steve started crying. Tony sighed and pulled over, then turned to watch him sob for a little while. When Steve finally managed to pull himself together, he looked up at the man next to him. Tony was trying (and massively failing) not to laugh. He let out a stupid snort and then they were both laughing, doubled over and heaving with out-of-place laughter and Steve’s body could not take this aggressive cocktail of emotions.

 

After that, Tony told him that he stinks and took him back to his place for a shower, made him coffee, and then sat with him to laugh about the whole ‘sidewalk’ thing.

“Can we drop it? It’s way in the past now.”

“I picked you up an hour ago, Steve.” Tony’s feet were on the table, his eyes trained on his phone as Steve lay his head on his knees.

“What am I gonna do, Tony?”

 

In truth, Steve knew that he didn’t have _nothing_. He had, like, 2 shirts and a pair of jeans, whatever cash was in his pocket, shoes, and Tony.

He had a best friend. Even if he was an asshole.

 

“We could get drunk?”

 

“Tony, it’s 10 in the mor-“

 

“We could get drunk?” 

 

___________________

 

 

 

Turns out, Tony Stark is not a sympathetic man, but he did care about Steve. You can tell, if you squint really, _really_ hard. Tony knows that Steve doesn’t want pity. He knows that he doesn’t want consoling words or hugs or ice cream nights and movies. So that’s not what they do.

Tony lets Steve stay in his flat for 3 days. During those 3 days, Steve actually mopes. Whenever Tony is out or busy, he mopes. Tony isn’t there to make fun of him for it, so he revels.

 

Until he bursts in on Steve in the bathroom.

“That’s it! That’s the final straw. I can not deal with you while you’re all depressed and shit. I could deal with it when you ate all my food, right, and I even dealt with it when you stared at your phone for 45 minutes waiting for Sharon to text you, but a bath? Really? A _bath_ , Steve? You’ve gone too far.” 

Steve felt a little affronted. He was the one that _owned_ a bath, he felt like pointing out, but he was busy covering his penis with the bubbles.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out of the bath. Get out of my house.”

 

“Huh?”

“We’re leaving.”

“We? Leaving? To where?”

“Yes. We leaving. Let’s go.” Tony was turning out of the door, leaving Steve to scramble out of the bath. “Pack yourself a toothbrush, dear. Also a t-shirt and grab some beers. Get all your savings. We’re leaving this dump, meet me in the car.”

Steve barely bothered to dry himself off, tugging on some jeans and doing everything that Tony said to. He locked the apartment behind him and then ran down the stairs and out onto the street, scanning for Tony’s car. When he got in, he looked at Tony with as much confusion as he could muster. He just started the engine and drove.

 

“Text your mom. Tell her you love her and you won’t be seeing her for a while, then give me your phone.” When Steve did as he was told, Tony took his phone and hurled it out the window. 

“What the hell, Tony?” 

“It’s symbolic, Steve, God. No one ever texts you anyway.” Steve was a little indignant but sighed anyway. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Road trip.” At that, Steve really did smile. It had taken Tony a year to pass his driving test (something about ‘reckless driving’ that Tony would deny to his death), but when he did, he saved up all his money and bought an old, white ford mustang ‘67. Steve didn’t see him for 3 weeks until the car was all fixed up and driving like a dream. “You need a break. So do I. This place is a dump anyway.”

“Okay.”

 

 

They drove all day, taking turns choosing which direction to go in, laughing and talking and relishing the freedom that was creeping in. 

 

Around 2 in the morning, Steve went to sleep with his feet tucked under him, and Tony continued to drive, glancing occasionally at his best friend. The streetlights lit his face briefly and rapidly, throwing him into shadow and then lighting him up. 

 

 

__

 

“MMphh,”

“Morning sunshine.” 

“Mm so hungry” Steve kept his eyes shut, but shifted slightly in his seat.

“Uh huh. There’s a McDonald’s com-“

“Mcdonald’s?” Steve shot up, immediately awake and eyes open. He blinked twice. “Uh, where are we?”

“No idea.”

“Did you drive all night?” When Tony nodded, Steve just sighed. “Okay, no drive through then.” 

 

Steve ordered while Tony went and lay down in a booth. He knew better than to assume he was sleeping, so he ordered 4 coffees, plus one for himself. 

“So where are we actually going?” Steve asked, sliding into the booth with enough food to feed 8 people. Money was never really much of a problem with Tony - when his parents died when they were 16, they had left a whole bunch of cash for Tony. 4 years later and he had barely made a dent in it, despite the most compulsive spending Steve had ever seen. 

“I don’t know, dude. I’m just here for a good time.” Tony shoved a load of food in his mouth and stretched out, scooping up all of the stuff in his arms. “C’mon. This is way too conventional.” 

 

They ate their breakfast on the roof of McDonald's, legs dangling over the side. Steve was under one of the golden arches of the holy ‘M’ and Tony was under the other. 

 

“Y’know, I once managed to get into the donut on a Randy’s.” 

“That was _true_? I thought that was one of those bullshit rumors. Like when everyone thought you broke into Principle Fury’s houseboat.”

“Actually that was true. I covered his entire floor in spicy mayo.”

Steve didn’t know what to say to that, so instead, he just spat out his coffee to see how far he could make it go. When Tony couldn’t match it, he just shrugged. “Never spit much anyway. More of a swallower.”

 

They stayed up there for twenty more minutes as Tony chugged each coffee and chucked the cups from the roof into the bin below them.

 

____

 

Steve drove the next bit. The air was super warm, and the sky was yellow and blue and they spent their time playing sweet and sour, and listening to stupid songs, and remising about when they both auditioned for the high school play as a joke and actually got cast as primary roles. Both of them had turned up drunk (though it was Tony’s idea and therefore fault) and ruined/saved an otherwise very boring play. 

 

Around noon, they hit an open expanse of nothingness. The road went on for eternity in front of them, desert land either side.

When the heat became a little overpowering, Tony opened the window and unbuckled. He sat on the window sill, half his body completely out in the open and spread his arms out wide, eyes shut. Steve smiled and rolled his eyes. 

“Steve!” Tony yelled and ducked into the car. “I bet we can swap who’s driving without stopping the car.”

“Absolutely not.” 

“Scared you can’t do it? I’ll let you do the inside bit!” Steve took a deep breath. He was not gonna fall into this trap. Or maybe he was. Tony always convinced him to do the stupidest shit.

“Fine. You won’t be able to do it anyway” Tony laughed in victory and whooped, then climbed out the _damn_ _window_. This was a mistake. Steve watched as the legs disappeared and Tony was screaming and laughing as he clung to the roof. It’s okay.

They were both going to die.

The wind whipped through his hair and his heartbeat was in his ears as he lay there, fingers digging into the warm metal of his car. Tony felt himself laughing as he slid across, preparing to slip into the driver’s side window. 

Until the car braked. Very suddenly.

And Tony was sent flying off the roof, crashing over the hood.

 

“YOU ASSHOLE.” Steve was almost crying with laughter when Tony sat up, scowling. His dark hair was a wild mess and covered in sand. He had a big bleeding graze along his cheekbone and next to his eye. He was laughing too, in-between spitting out sand and shaking the dust out of his hair.

 He lay back down, chest heaving with laughter and Steve rested his head on the wheel. They stayed like that for a while, Steve’s shoulders shaking and Tony lying on the ground, voiceless with laughter.

“I’m going to get you back for that” Tony said, opening the driver door and shoving Steve into the passenger seat. His arms were coated in blood and sand and his shirt was ripped up one side. Yet, Steve thought, his lopsided grin was still the most prominent part of his appearance. Tony slipped his sunglasses over his eyes as he turned the engine on again, and pulled away from the skid marks that his body had left on the ground.

 

For the rest of the afternoon, Steve leaned his head on the window sill, watching the sandy landscape pass by. They talked aimlessly into the evening, watching the skies turn from blue to gold and pink until Steve told Tony to pull over. There, on the side of the road, completely alone, they both stood and stared at the setting sun. Tony was sat on the hood, one knee up on the bumper, and Steve leaned next to him. For a while, neither of them said anything, just watched. 

Tony’s face was glowing in the light, the wind was ruffling his already messy hair and Steve pretended he wasn’t taking in every second of this moment and treasuring it. When Tony leaned his head on Steve’s shoulder, he knew he really _must_ be tired. The blood on his face was dried and cracking, his dark stubble was coming through and he had faint bags under his eyes. 

“Stop staring at me,” Tony said, keeping his eyes shut. 

“Just wondering when you last slept.” Steve shrugged Tony’s head off his shoulder and began digging around in the back seat, collecting all the trash.

“Are you… cleaning out my car?” Tony sounded offended, and he only shrugged in response. He dumped all the trash, which was a lot, into a small pile on the ground. 

“Steve, that’s littering Steve. Are you littering Steve? Steve, what are yo-“ Tony cut off when Steve grabbed one of the several bottles of liquor in Tony’s trunk. He twisted the lid off and poured it all over the pile. “Hey! That’s good vodka. I got that from the nice end of the aisle at walmart, Steve.” 

Despite the whining, Tony was the one to pull out a lighter. They both stood back as it exploded in flames. It died down to a regular fire fairly quickly, but they both stood and watched it anyway, side by side. The air was already hot, but the fire was welcome. It’s light was constant in the darkening sky and brought the pair closer to it and each other. 

 

That night, they drank a lot and sat on the ground, leaning against the car. They laughed and Steve cried again, though he’s not really sure why. Then they sat in silence, watching the fire die down to almost nothing. 

 

“Tony,”

“Yeah?”

“Why are we doing this?”

“For you,”

 

“Doesn’t it feel like running?”

 

“You know I don’t run, Steve.” Tony smiled slightly, leaning his head back slightly and looking up at the stars. They were silent for a little while longer and, somewhere along the line, they fell asleep on the ground, in the warm air, leaning on each other and the car.

 

 

____

 

 

Tony woke up lying in the back seat, buckled into both of them. Up in front, Steve was driving and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of some olden days song. 

As quietly as he could, Tony unbuckled himself and shifted to right behind him, then quickly slipped his hands over his eyes and yelled at the top of his lungs. 

 

For the next few minutes, the car swerved all over the desert road, both Steve and Tony yelling, as Steve thrashed around, trying to free his eyes and keep the car going straight. The car swung off the road and onto the sand and kept looping around until Steve gave in and started doing donuts in the dirt, blind. Both of them were laughing now, as well as feeling very, very sick. 

Tony relinquished when Steve jerked the car sharply to the left and he was flung back. He scrambled into the front of the now stationary car, both of them laughing, blood rushing in their ears. 

“You’re crazy. Did you know that, Stark? You’re fucking crazy.” Steve looked down at him and met his eyes with his best disapproving look. 

“The raging Ying to your sobered Yang” Tony grinned and leaned in slightly. 

 

They were out of food by this point, considering Steve ate like a starved elephant, so they drove along the track until at long last they found civilization and stopped at a supermarket. They were going to take a break from driving that morning, so they found the fanciest hotel in the town and sat in the lobby while Tony hacked their system from his phone. 

“Okay, let’s go.” Steve thought about complaining about the morality of it, but then sniffed his armpit and decided that humanity would be better off despite this. Tony wandered behind the counter as if he belonged there, and somehow his confidence pulled it off because no one questioned why some blood covered, dirty idiot in a ripped black sabbath t-shirt was searching their key cupboard and walking away with one. 

There, they used the complimentary toothbrushes and soap, took turns showering, shaving, and felt clean for the first time since they’d left, seeing as the closest they’d gotten to hygiene on the road was rinsing their mouths out with mouthwash and sharing a spray deodorant. 

Steve showered first, and while Tony was in, he lay on the bed and began flicking through the channels on the TV. Tony, being the extra little bitch that he was, had gotten them a presidential suite even though they weren’t even staying the night. When Tony came back through, his hair was curly with the damp and the towel was hanging low on his hips. Despite having seen him like this a million times in their friendship, Steve’s glance lingered a little bit longer than normal. All up his left side, the crusted blood was gone and all that was left was the slightly ripped flesh. Tony wasn’t very big, as Steve loved to point out, but he was toned and muscular.

 

“Hey, sugar bun, eyes up here.” Steve grinned and tore his eyes away from his best friends abs. Tony was looking right back at him, a smug smile on his face. He looked a lot better now his face was cleaned up, but it still probably needs treating a bit, so Steve called room service and asked for a small first aid kit that included Savlon.

“Lay down on the bed.” Steve had taken the Savlon, knowing Tony, who was wearing pants now, would never voluntarily do it himself.

“No dinner first? I had you down for a third date kind of man, Rogers” Tony laughed, not sitting down on the bed.

“Tony, bed, now.” 

“Ooh, dominant, I like it.” At the wink he received, Steve stepped forward and grabbed Tony by his waist and threw him bodily onto the bed, straddled him and pinned his arms above his head. “Fucking hell, Steve,” Tony was smiling but also breathing a little heavy. 

Steve tried his best to not think about the position they were in, telling himself it was just so he could take care of his stupid friend. He leaned down, letting go of Tony’s wrists to unscrew the cap. He remained straddling him and set to work on the grazes. It was much worse than he had thought before, and he found himself wondering how Tony had put up with the pain this whole time.

Meanwhile, the straddlee lay as still as he could, thinking of the worst things he could think of. Dead puppies, Steve’s naked grandma, spilled out camels guts. Fuck. Anything to quell the threatening hard on. Steve’s warm breath on his stomach definitely was not helping at this point, nor his weirdly soft fingers that were definitely making this way too intimate than it needed to be.

“Stop wriggling.” 

“Sir, yes, sir. Although it does tickle.” Tony tried to steady his breathing as Steve worked higher up his chest with the Savlon. Steve was much bigger than him, and the massive shoulders that crowded over him were thinly clad in a damp t-shirt. He did both of his forearms and then shifted upwards to do his face. “Y’know I can do this myself, right?”

 

“You wouldn’t,” Steve said, his voice low with concentration. He was a few inches from Tony’s face, eyes trained on the graze, trying to ignore all of his very intrusive thoughts. If I focus on the cut, I can ignore his breath and his massive eyes and the fact that I’m straddling him and I can ignore the fact that he is so small and his body is really hard and Oh My God I need to stop I was done with this cut like 3 minutes ago and I may be getting a boner Abort mission Abort. 

 

“Uh, you’re all done.” Steve smiled, meeting Tony’s eyes but not moving. He could feel his heart beating in his chest and felt warm skin and Tony hadn’t moved his arms from above his head and he was completely helpless against him.

“Wanna get off me now?” Tony looked at him, eyebrow raised. The question took a while to register, and then he was scrambling off his half-naked best friend, who immediately sat up and scratched the back of his head. So. That was weird.

“Wanna go get lunch?”  Tony pulled on his last clean shirt and didn’t meet Steve’s eyes.

“YES. Uh, yeah, let's go. Where?” After that, it was free and easy again. They hit up a thrift to get some more clothes and then wandered around before loading back up into the car.

 That afternoon, Steve drove and Tony sat backward in the passenger seat, cross-legged with his back against the dashboard. 

 

“That’s unsafe.” Steve had warned, uselessly. Tony was wearing a large red t-shirt that read ‘radiohead’ on it and large wayfarers covered his eyes. For a second, time seemed frozen, caught in an everlasting moment. Golden light was covering half of his best friend’s face, smile lopsided and full of joy, his dark, curly hair was spilling everywhere and he had one hand out the window, swirling up and down in a wave motion. Some whole new kind of beautiful.

 

Then his infinite moment was over, and his eyes were back on the road. The sky began darkening rapidly as they began pulling up to the next town over. Maybe it was a city. Steve had no idea where they were.

 

 

That night, they found a bar and sat down until they’d had a few drinks and Dancing Queen came on. 

Tony’s eyes lit up and he slid slowly off of his stool, keeping his eyes on Steve’s. Without breaking contact, Tony slowly backed up towards the dance floor, swaying more and more until he was straight up dancing by himself, eyes still trained on Steve’s, who just grinned. What a loser, he thought affectionately. 

Then he went to join him, and they were drunk enough to get closer, and they were drunk enough to allow themselves to touch and they were drunk enough for Tony to let himself be held by his best friend, to let his best friend’s hands take his hips. They were drunk enough to smile and to lean and to get so carried away that now they were pressed up against each other and Tony was laughing and Steve was actually dancing and, hey, maybe this was a mistake, maybe this was all it needed to be.

 

After the bar, they wandered the streets and found themselves sat on the edge of a fountain. Tony’s feet didn’t reach the ground but Steve was too distracted by the pretty lights and the pretty head on his shoulder to make fun of him. In the hours that followed, they inevitably both fell in the fountain, and then they ate street burgers, and then they drank some more and they might have gotten matching tattoos, but who knows?

Tony definitely started a bar fight and Steve stroked like 5 dogs, but what really matters is that they both woke up in the right car, still with their clothes on. (Though, Tony was firmly on top of his best friend, secured by a large arm around his waist.)

 

He groaned at the sunlight and winced. Beneath him, Steve stirred and groaned as well. Well, this was awkward.

“No homo bro.” He muttered and Steve groaned again and loosened his arm around Tony so he could scramble to his feet. There was silence for a few seconds as they both blinked and took in their surroundings.

Then Tony was absolutely howling with laughter, wiping his eyes and completely failing to pull himself together long enough to explain himself to a very confused Steve.

“You- You got a. You got a fucking Captain America tattoo” He managed to get out, absolutely cackling with laughter and gesturing wildly at Steve’s arm, where the Captain America shield was stained forever in red, white and blue. Then Steve started freaking out, until he saw Tony’s own tattoo, of the Iron Man arc reactor, and started laughing as well.

 

The days that followed were some of the best of Steve’s life. Him and his best friend, free and on the open road like every cliche movie ever, but so much better. He barely thought about the life he’d left behind. It wasn’t much anyway. He had assumed that, sooner or later, the trip would run dry and the momentum would run out and they would head back home. He’d even assumed that it would already have run out, or something would have gone wrong, or God knows what else. But it hadn’t. Home was barely a thought in his head, barely even a memory. For Steve and Tony, there was only right now, ‘home’ was an old car and anywhere that it would take them. They met strangers and sang old songs and acted like total losers having the times of their lives.

 

They pulled in for gas one night at a 24 hour. It was maybe 2 in the morning and neither of them had slept in a long, long time. After filling up, Steve looked over at Tony in the bright lights of the station, too bright compared to the pitch black of out in the real world. Tony bent over, leaning his head on the hood of the car and then falling to his knees, groaning. Then he fell back onto the dirty, disgusting, oily floor.

“Tony, what are you doing.” 

“Napping, Stevie. I am napping. Join me.” Steve laughed and hauled him up, dragging him into the gas station. Together, they stood side by side in the gas station bathroom, brushing their teeth with a finger-full of toothpaste in silence. Steve couldn’t think of anywhere. He’d rather be. 

In the shop, Tony paid and bought them both a red bull each. This lasted them long enough to get to a small motel, where they tried to ask for a two bedroom but clearly were too tired and slurring. When they opened the door and saw the double bed, neither even flinched. Too tired to care, Steve dragged off his shirt and joined Tony on the bed, who was already lying face down. 

 

In the morning, Steve found himself expecting to feel Tony in his arms and missing it when he wasn’t. He sat up, and Tony was sat in the window sill, coffee cup in hand, doused in the morning light. Steve let himself stare for a little while. He’d also found himself staring a lot, too. Staring at some newly discovered beauty. Not new in general, but new to Steve, who’d maybe overlooked it before. 

That morning, in a shitty motel in the middle of God knows where Steve found himself coming to a strange conclusion. He thought about his best friend. He thought about his raw charisma and his asymmetrical smile and his unique personality. He thought about his laugh and his voice and his stupid dark eyelashes and his stupid brown eyes and his weirdly mobile eyebrows. Steve stared at his best friend in the early morning light and wrestled briefly with the truth before letting it wash over him with something that felt like relief. This truth had been there a while. Maybe he was too dumb to see it. Maybe he was afraid of it.

 

“-eve? Stevie? Snap outta it man, we got shit to do.” 

“You didn’t sleep did you?” Steve sat up and pulled on a shirt. When he noticed the plastic tray of pancakes, he outright moaned. A filthy, loud moan.

“Hey, keep it in your pants, Rogers. And I did, but for, like, an hour,” Steve sighed. Tony kept talking 100 miles an hour as they wandered out to the car. When he tried to sit in the front seat, Steve blocked him and shoved him quickly into the back. “Hey, what the hell?”

“I’m driving. You, sleep.”

“Steve, you know I love it when you’re dominant.” Tony obeyed despite the flirting, lying down in the back seats and sticking his feet out of the window. 

“Honey, you haven’t _seen_ me dominant.”

“Oh? Why don’t you show me, big boy?” 

“Behave all day and maybe I’ll show you,” Steve started driving, noticing that he’d actually slept well into the afternoon and it wasn’t morning at all.

 

 It only took an hour or two for Tony to fall asleep and then he stayed that way until Steve dumped an entire bottle of water on him at 9pm that night. He spluttered awake and looked indignantly at Steve. 

“After all that I’ve done for you? This is how you repay me?” 

“Sorry, babe.” Steve slid into the back seat next to him and folded down the two front seats, then handed Tony a burger and a beer. For a while, they ate in silence, and then they drank well into the night because, well, they’re young and dumb and they can do what they want. 

 

“Tony.”

“Yeah?”

“Am I gay?”

“I don’t know, man. How should I know?”

“Well, you’re, like, gay. Or half gay. Whatever.”

“Bisexual, Steve. I’m bi. Why do you think you’re gay?”

“Because I have gay thoughts, Tones. Why do I have gay thoughts?”

“Steve, baby, this really seems like something you gotta figure out on your own.” 

“How can I do it on my own?! I think I’m gay, man. Sharon and all her boobs and stuff was like, okay, but, like, Sharon and her boobs and stuff wasn't for me, man.”

“Is that why you broke up?”

“Yeah man. She said I gotta stop looking at Man Butt.” 

“Steve, you absolute dog. You’re gay as hell.” 

“How do I know if I’m gay?” Tony looked over at him and rolled his eyes, then shifted onto his side.

“How about like this!” He said with a grin. Then kissed Steve hard on the mouth. Steve let out a noise of surprise but leaned into it straight away. It was messy as all hell and they were both a little too drunk to even really know what was going on, but Steve was self-aware enough to put a hand in curly black hair. 

That is, until Tony pulled away and looked at him expectantly.

“Uh.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Are you gay or what?” 

“I- I- Uh…” Steve didn’t know what to say, or how to say it, so instead he just shoved Tony onto his back and kissed him again, harder.

 

___ 

 

 

“What the fuck?”

 Tony Stark woke up naked (not for the first time in his life) on the floor of his car. Above him, on the seats, was Steve Rogers. On the seats, that selfish bastard. Wait.

 

“What the _fuck_?”

The second time, it woke Steve up. Naked Steve, who looked around and saw Naked Tony. 

“What the fuck?”

“That’s what I said.” 

“What the fuck?”

“I don’t know what the fuck Steve.” They looked at each other for several seconds, before both mutually agreeing to put pants on before continuing the conversation. 

“HOLY FUCK, my ass hurts. What the hell did you do to me, Steve?” Tony yells as soon as he tries to sit up. He checks himself over. Yep, hip bruises, hickeys, the works. Damn, last night must have been fun.

“I- Uh- What- I don’t know, I” Steve fumbled around with his jeans and scrambled out of the car. Tony did the same and looked expectantly at Steve. 

“What the hell happened last night?” 

“I- I don’t know. I- Did we…?”

“Steve, if the constant ache in my ass is anything to go by, that’s a pretty solid yes.” 

“Why- uh, what? Um.” 

“Pull yourself together, Steve.” Tony was grinning, almost laughing even, and Steve was still wrestling with his rising panic and fear.

“Pull myself together? We fucked, Tony. We fucked! That’s- that’s so-“

“We can say ‘made love’ if you really want, I know you sometimes like that.”

“Oh my god, would you let that go? It was one time. It was a one-time thing. Just once. Just once.” 

They smiled at each other, sort of. 

 

“This is… This is big, Tony.”

“Oh! De Ja Vu! You definitely said that last night.” Steve fought back the frustration at how lightly Tony was taking this.

“Tony, for real. This is- Everything’s changed now, right?” Tony was silent for a long minute (an impressive feat in itself) and then he met Steve’s eyes.

“Does it have to change? We’re still- This is still-“ looking at him, looking at his best friend, disheveled and unsure, Steve felt a surge of emotion. 

“God! This was not supposed to happen. This is- This is so wrong.” A flicker of hurt flashed across Tony’s face, but it was quickly replaced by anger.

“Wrong? It was wrong? You didn’t think it was so wrong last night, Steve. And okay, yeah, it’s not the best but it happened okay? Fucking get over it.”

“That’s not what I meant. I just- I just mean. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I can’t just get over something like this.” It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Steve had spent this whole trip subconsciously planning out how this was supposed to happen. How he was going to go about this. 

There just seemed to be something about Tony Stark that never quite followed the plan.

 

“Yeah, well, sorry about that, Steve. It wasn’t exactly how I planned it either. But you don’t need to be such a bitch about it? I’m not the fucking worst person to sleep with.” 

“Planned it? Planned what?”

“I- what?” Tony stuttered and looked up, angrily running a hand through his hair.

“Exactly how you planned what?”

“It doesn’t matter. Let’s just fucking go.” Tony was turning back around, heading towards the car. Mindlessly, Steve followed after him. As he reached for the door, Steve grabbed his arm and spun him around, shoving him up against the car and pressing him against it. Tony tried to shove him off, but Steve’s size made it impossible.

“Tell me that last night you kissed me totally platonically,” Steve demanded, closing in. His eyes were trained on Tony, who looked away, breathing heavy. 

“Steve-“

“Tell me that it meant nothing.” Tony’s head was turned to the left, and Steve put a hand against him, pushing him further into the car. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, fear and anticipation mixing in at the prospect of an answer.

“C’mon, man-“

“NO!” Steve yelled and Tony flinched back, and then frowned and turned to face Steve, glaring at him from two inches away. 

 

“Fine! Fine! Okay? I kissed you and it meant something. Happy now? Is that what you wanted?” Tony continued to glare daggers at him, chest heaving and Steve frowned deeper.

“Yes.” He breathed and they were kissing again, sober now and much better at it, but with the added ingredients of Steve’s frustration and Tony’s anger. Steve shoved the smaller man even harder against the car and gripped hard at his hair. It was all tongue and teeth and hot breath. At first, Tony fought for the upper hand but once Steve’s other hand took a hold of him, he submitted to it and went loose.

When they broke apart, Steve took a step back to breathe, and Tony blinked up at him, the last of his anger and defiance draining away. He tugged at his sleeve and raised an eyebrow.

“Something you want to tell me, Rogers?” He laughed, and then Steve was laughing, and then they were both laughing and then they were kissing again, but slower, and gentler. Steve relished in the feeling of holding Tony Stark in his arms.

“Yeah,” Steve kissed him again. “I” kiss “love” kiss “you” kiss.

Tony smiled up at him.   
“I have loved you since, like, 3 years ago and never even realized it” Steve confessed, running his hands all over Tony as if its the last time he’ll ever get to do it.

“I guess I love you too, Steve.” 

 

 

After that, Tony actually googled where they were, and they found themselves driving in the direction of home. Apparently, they had found whatever it was they were looking for out there on the road.

 

On the way home, they made a stop. Tony knew some people in this town and they’d agreed to let them stay for a bit. Steve pulled up in front of a big, brick house. Out the front, a girl was stood waving them in. She had deep red hair and when they got out the car she hugged Tony and Steve was introduced to ‘Natasha’. She dragged them up into the house and Tony greeted a Clint, a Bruce, and a Thor(?) before they were both sent upstairs to shower.

“They seem nice,” Steve said conversationally. Tony agreed and informed him of the party happening that night.

“They’ve offered us some clothes. Something about us looking like homeless people or something.”

 

 

The four people they were staying with were great, their booze was even greater. The party was low key and a lot of fun. Classically, Tony got super drunk and told everyone about some of their adventures since starting the road trip. 

“You- you fucking stole a hot dog cart?” 

“We didn’t steal it. Tony traded his super expensive, Stark family heirloom watch for it.” Steve butted in, spilling his drink slightly.

“Yeah, yeah. So worth it. It had weird tires that fit perfectly on train tracks. I fucking sat in it and Steve pushed me for ages until a train came and nearly killed us.” 

 

They fell asleep at around 3, together on the sofa, and woke up to breakfast on the table. All day, both Tony and Steve tried to get up and leave but couldn’t quite bring themselves to, finding excuses to stay a little longer.

 

“You guys got homes to go to or something? Beat it, I gotta show potential housemates around in like an hour. Clean up or get out.” Natasha pushed Tony gently and received a cheeky smile in return

“Hey Nat, what if we moved in instead?”

“What?” Said Natasha.

“What?” Said Steve.

“What?” Tony said, innocently. “What have we left back home, Steve? This could work?” 

 

Natasha shrugged in apparent agreement and Steve thought about it. He tried with all his might to think of a reason that this wouldn’t work, any excuse as to why this was a bad idea.

 

He came up blank.

 

 

 

 

Weeks later, as they were sleeping in their shared bed, Tony sat up at 3 in the morning. Turned to Steve.

"Did you leave the bath running?"

 


End file.
